


The Seijin in Apartment 4-B

by notgeorgelucas



Category: Ultraman - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M, just how do baltans do it anyway, living together to share expenses, science patrol, ultraman prime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:18:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notgeorgelucas/pseuds/notgeorgelucas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ide discovers that his neighbors upstairs aren't what they appear; worse yet, his partner Arashi has agreed to dine out with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seijin in Apartment 4-B

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for my beloved wife, who at last, at LONG LAST, has an Ide/Arashi story on the Internet.

There was something odd about those new people upstairs. Mitsuhiro Ide was sure of it. He’d been watching them come and go the last few days from his patio, and while he couldn’t quite pinpoint why, they just seemed…off, somehow.

They did their grocery shopping late at night, returned with several odd-looking bags that didn’t look like anything coming from the immediate community. Ide had also noticed they rarely if ever put anything in the trash or recycling bins. He’d watched one of them conversing with the neighborhood scolds one morning, and whatever they had said seemed to settle things. It was just that the ladies walked away stiffly and with glassy stares—something about that nagged at his memory, but he couldn’t quite place from where.

From all appearances the neighbors were perfectly normal—older, one bald and the other grey haired, in generally good shape, and reasonably friendly if a bit reticent. They rarely if ever received any mail, seemed to wear the same clothing every day, and paid their rent on time (Ide had asked the superintendent). But Ide knew from personal experience that appearances were deceiving. It was a strange world and secrets lay hidden everywhere—sometimes right under one’s very nose.

He’d tried to discuss his concerns with Arashi, but the Fat One simply shrugged, suggested he take up a better hobby than spying on the neighbors, and went back to cleaning and maintaining his gun collection. How Arashi had managed to hang onto those old, obsolete weapons from the Science Patrol days, Ide had no idea, though he’d repeatedly assured the council that the guns were inert and utterly useless.

As if, Ide snorted softly to himself. These kids today with their teeny-tiny weapons might think they were hot stuff, but when HE built a gun, they were made to LAST. And WORK FOREVER.

He sighed and shook his head. The Fat One should be just about done with dinner, and Ide had to admit a cup of tea would go down nicely—not as nicely as a cup of real coffee would be, but he wasn’t allowed the good stuff anymore. Something about his heart—damned doctors, took all the joys out of life…

And just then…he heard it. A terrifying sound from the past that he’d heard far too many times in his nightmares. It was the unmistakable laugh of a Baltan…and it was coming from upstairs.

****

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘YOU KNOW’?”

Arashi continued setting the table. “Just like I said. I know. I’ve known for two weeks now. Sit down and eat before it gets cold.”

“I…I…” Ide’s mouth was gaping as he slowly complied. “Two weeks? And you never bothered to tell me?”

“Well, considering how you’re acting right now…” He handed Ide two small white pills. “Here.”

“I don’t need those things!” Ide protested.

“Your doctor says otherwise. Take them.”

Ide scowled as he tossed the pills into his mouth. “The doctor also says you should stop smoking, Fat One.”

“Ehhh, at this point why bother?” Arashi served the rice. “Anyway, I met Joe two weeks ago at the park. He asked me for a light and we got to talking.”

“Does Hayata know about this?”

Arashi shrugged. “Beats me. I’d assume so. You know how nosy those Ultras are.”

Ide started to say something, then paused. “’Joe’? And since when do Baltans smoke? And now that I think about it, how?”

“Hand me your plate. Yes, they’ve taken on the names Joe and Dave. They’re trying to blend in. And as for how they smoke…I have no idea. I don’t ask. Unlike some people, I mind my own business.”

“Joe and Dave?” Ide shook his head in disbelief. “’Joe’ and ‘Dave’ are trying to blend in with the Tokyo natives. Unbelievable.”

“Well, apparently the Baltans didn’t spend too much time bothering to learn much about Earth culture and such. I mean, like Joe said, why bother when you’re going to conquer the place and wipe out humanity anyway?”

“I cannot believe you’re taking this so blithely, after everything we’ve seen and done with the Science Patrol.” Ide held out his rice bowl for seconds. “So why are they here? Reconnaissance? Planning to give conquering the planet again?”

Arashi shook his head. “They’re retired.”

“RETIRED?” Ide exploded. “SINCE WHEN DO BALTAN WARRIORS ‘RETIRE’?”

“Well, Joe admits it wasn’t so much ‘retire’ as ‘desert’,” Arashi conceded. “They figured they’d come here, lie low, and enjoy the rest of their time together. You know, like us.”

“I…WHAT?” Ide’s eyes bulged. “THEY…do Baltans even do that? How?”

“I said nothing of the sort,” Arashi replied evenly. “They are living upstairs together ‘to share expenses’. Just like us. And what they do, and how they do it, I really don’t want to know. No more than they care about us and what we do…and how.”

Ide rubbed his eyes wearily. “Joe and Dave, the retired, smoking, gay Baltans are living two stories above us.”

Arashi nodded. “You know, they’re very nice. You ought to try talking to them sometime.”

“If you’ll recall,” Ide hissed, “the last time I tried that, things didn’t end up too well for me.”

“That was a long time ago,” Arashi shrugged. “Anyway, you’re going to get your chance. Joe invited us to join them for dinner tomorrow night.”

“WHAT?”

“I accepted. It was the neighborly thing to do, and as former Science Patrol officers, we have a duty to extend courtesy to seijin…”

“WHAT?”

“…and Joe tells me that this restaurant is very highly rated. It’ll be fun.”

“WHAT?”

*****

“You didn’t mention,” Ide quietly commented to Arashi, “that the **seijin** gave this place ‘high ratings’.” They stood in front of a non-descript building in one of Tokyo’s southern districts. There was nothing unusual about it; it appeared well tended to and, if not welcoming, non-threatening. The odd thing, however, was that they were the only humans even considering going in. The rest of the world hurried past without a second glance.

“They’ve got a device to keep normal humans away,” Arashi explained as he reached for the door. “Joe called ahead and told them we were coming.”

“That comforts me so very much,” Ide muttered as he headed in.  It took a second for his eyes to adjust, but what he finally saw was nothing short of stunning. For one thing, the place was much, much larger than the exterior would have suggested. For another, it was like a Who’s Who of alien cultures. The hostess was a polite, attentive Pigmon (“not a seijin, but Joe says she’s really good with customers,” Arashi noted).  A Mefilas and Barbarue stood talking at the bar as the Dada bartender mixed them drinks. Two Fabiras were dining nearby, and over there was…Ide’s mind reeled as he struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.

Two Baltan waved them over from a corner table. “Oh, that’s right,” Arashi said as they headed over. “Here. Stick this in your ear.” He held out a small bullet-shaped object in the palm of his hand.

“Up yours, Fat One.”

Arashi laughed. “No, no. Universal translator. Don’t worry, it’s not dangerous. I’ve been using it to talk with Joe.” Ide reluctantly inserted the little black thing in his ear, and instantly the ocean of babelspeak became perfectly understandable. “See? Not bad, huh? Pity we never got these things from Ultraman.”

“I need a drink,” Ide declared. He nodded curtly at the Baltans and headed over the bar. The Dada scrutinized him carefully. “What?”

The Dada shrugged. “We don’t get many humans in here,” he said.

“At these prices, I’m not surprised.”

***

Dinner went over surprisingly well, especially after Ide had put away several drinks and made a resolution to ignore whatever it was the Baltans were eating. Given that it initially squealed, it was a bit difficult, but after another whiskey Ide was able to manage.

“We are so sorry about your dinner,” Joe was saying to Arashi. Dave was returning to the table with fresh drinks. “The cook isn’t quite up on human cuisine…”

“Feeding or serving?” Ide declared with a laugh. Dave joined in a second later; apparently the dinner date had weighed heavily on him as well, and in a twist of fate had settled on the same coping mechanism as Ide.

“The udon is fine,” Arashi assured Joe. “Think nothing of it.” He glanced around the room while reaching into his jacket pocket.

Joe shook his head. “No smoking inside. City regulations. Besides, some of the diners are flammable.” Arashi sighed and removed his hand. Meanwhile Ide and Dave were laughing it up and having a fine old time. “And to think they were so wary about this,” Joe added wryly.

“Well…Ide gets a bit nervous where Baltans are concerned,” Arashi commented.

“Whattya mean?” Ide declared. His arm was draped around a swaying Dave’s shoulders. “You guys are GREAT! We shoulda done this AGES ago!” Dave started to agree but belched instead, setting off another loud round of laughter.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Arashi said sadly.

“Tell me about it,” Joe nodded.

****

“FROM THE LAND OF LIIIIIIGHT FOR THE SAKE OF THE EARTH….HERE HE COMES, OUR HERO ULLLLLLLLTRAAAAAAMANNNNNN!” Polite applause filled the room as Ide and Dave swayed and staggered around the karaoke machine. Unfortunately, no seemed ready to take the stage from them.

“Well, at least they’re getting along,” Arashi pointed out.  “So tell me…why did you two come here?”

“They can cook Baltan, which is more than I can say for Dave,” Joe snorted. “Oh no, there they go again.” A familiar chorus of horns filled the room. “Great. They’ll have everyone screaming ‘SEVEN!’ at the top of their lungs.”

“I meant Earth,” Arashi continued. “Why did so many of these people choose to come here out of all the places in the galaxy?”

Joe shrugged, no mean feat for a Baltan. “It’s protected,” he said simply.

“Ah,” Arashi nodded. “By Ultraman…or men, as the case may be.”

“Exactly.” Joe sipped at his drink. “We came here about two months ago, and within a day or two we were confronted by two of the Ultra Brothers. They asked our intentions, we told them, they nodded and told us that if we abided by their rules, there’d be no problems. No invading, no waging war on one another, that sort of thing.”

“Hayata told us the Ultras were galactic policemen, more or less,” Arashi commented over the din of “SEVEN! SEVEN! SEVEN!”

“Those M-78 guys,” Joe snorted. “They come here preaching about protecting the planet and guiding it toward the future…and they mate with one of the humans, say ‘oh, that is **so nice** ’ and the next thing you know they’re screwing everything in sight, male or female.” He shook his head. “Horndogs of the galaxy, you ask me. You don’t see us trying to pull that stuff. Ask me, they’re trying to give your people a genetic leg up.”

“Well, in all fairness Hayata was quite the ladies man,” Arashi replied. “Maybe they took their cues from him.” He looked around and leaned forward conspiratorially. “You know, there was this one time that his wife Akiko found the Beta Capsule and thought it was a…”

****

Ide groaned and forced his eyes to open. Morning sunlight slipped through the lowered blinds. He was lying in his own bed, horribly hung over and drawing an initial blank as to why he was so. A moment later Arashi entered the room bearing a glass of juice and two aspirin. A faint whiff of smoke drifted around him.

“You’ve been smoking,” Ide croaked. He sat up and downed both juice and aspirin.

“Yes, it’s ten o’clock. I always have my morning smoke at nine thirty,” Arashi replied. “What do you remember?”

“The restaurant…” Ide’s eyes widened, an action he immediately regretted. “Baltans,” he whispered.

“That’s right. Very good. Yes, we had dinner with the Baltans,” Arashi nodded. “And you got very, very drunk in the process. Fortunately, Dave was just as nervous about getting together so he’d been drinking as well. The two of you hit it off very well.”

“We did?” Ide winced and tried to remember. “Karaoke…?”

“Yes, you and Dave had quite the playlist, and you wouldn’t let anyone else take the stage.” Arashi chuckled and shook his head. “Fortunately, Joe and I were able to get you two home in one piece.”

“Baltans…” Ide suddenly gasped. “They didn’t…you know, take advantage of me while I…”

“No, no,” Arashi laughed. “They didn’t take liberties. For one thing, they wouldn’t be interested. Joe once mentioned that humans don’t have the proper number of orifices required for that sort of thing.”

“…plural?”

Arashi shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I wasn’t going to inquire further. By the way, Joe wanted to know if we wanted to join them this weekend at a different place. He said the chef at this one did decent human cuisine.”

“Dining with Baltans,” Ide muttered under his breath. He considered it for a moment. “Sure. Why not?”

“All right. I’ll let him know when I meet him across the street at two. Get yourself cleaned up. I’ll start on lunch.”

Ide slowly extricated himself from bed and gave himself a quick once over, just in case. Everything appeared to be fine. “Orifices…” he muttered to himself as he headed for the bathroom. What was the world coming to, when you had to worry about orifices...


End file.
